Spider-Man
by comicbook.time
Summary: Peter Parker is a college freshman. He has classes, financial problems, social issues and oh yeah - he's the Amazing Spider-Man!
1. Chapter 1

The red boot belonging to New York City's favorite Wall-Crawler slammed into the yellow chest piece of Herman Shultz, who flew back into the marble wall of the Bank of America. That was when a phone began to ring loudly.

"Hey, Aunt May," Spider-Man said as Shultz got up, avoiding a barrage of webbing.

"Peter!" Her shrill voice sounded through the beat up iPhone 5. "I've been waiting for you for almost an hour. For Pete's sake, I'm the one helping you move!"

"I'm sorry Aunt May," he responded as he dodged a burst of energy, the phone clasped between his shoulder and ear. "I'll be there, I love – "

Before he could say any more, he was hit with another burst of energy that was sent his way. This sent him flying backward, his phone flying from his hand and being smashed to pieces when it hit the wall. Peter quickly got up and web-zipped towards his opponent, slamming into him harder than before.

"I'd love to stay and have more fun, Shockey," he said as he glued him to the wall with a large shot of webbing. "but I've places to go, people to see. I'm a busy arachnid!"

"All yours!" He shouted as he swung out of the large bank, zooming by the police officers that had surrounded the building. He continued to swing throughout the vast city, headed towards the Queens borough bridge.

"Dammit, Shocker," he said to himself as he swung. "Making me late and making me drop my phone. I suppose it was time for me to get a new one but still!" He shook his head as he approached the townhouse belonging to his Aunt May. After changing into his street clothes, he hopped back out of his window and entered through the front door.

"Hey, Aunt May!" He said as he entered, scratching the back of his head. He eyed his boxes he had stacked near the front door. He was hoping his dorm room had space to put his things. And hopefully somewhere to hide his more 'personal projects'; such as his ever upgrading web-shooters.

"Finally!" She exclaimed as she minced into the foyer. "Are you ready? We can make trips back if – "

The elderly woman cut off her words as she turned from the coat rack to see that her nephew had already lifted all four of his quite heavy boxes at once.

"Well then…" She said, grinning a bit. "Never mind."

He carried the boxes down to a parking garage a block away and up two flights of stairs, loading them into the trunk and back seat of Mays's old '99 Toyota SUV. He then hopped into the driver's seat before his aunt could, grinning at her.

"You do enough work, May," he told her. "Let me drive, give yourself a break."

She reluctantly handed him the keys, walking over to the passenger side and buckling in.

"I can't believe your so grown up," she said as they were headed towards Empire State University. "It feels like just yesterday Ben was teaching you how to ride a bike…"

"I remember that day," he said with a grin. "He got me going, but I was too scared to use the breaks so I circled the block like fifteen times."

"Oh my, I remember," she giggled. "but once you got going, you were riding that old bike everywhere you could. I was deathly afraid to let you start riding it to school."

"I convinced you though," he said as he pulled into the traffic on the bridge.

"What made you stop riding that old thing?" she asked him.

"Oh, it eventually started breaking too easily," he told her. He didn't want her to tell her the real reason why he stopped was that Flash Thompson had Liz Allen had started to tease him because it was an old, rusty beach cruiser.

After about forty minutes more of driving through the awful New York traffic, the two were pulling up to the campus. As Peter parked, he turned to look at his aunt who had tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

"Oh, Aunt May," he said. "Don't cry."

"Oh I know I shouldn't," she said softly. "I'll be okay. Now come on Peter, let's get you up to that dorm. Are you sure you don't need any help with those boxes?"

"I've got them, Aunt May," Peter said as he unbuckled and opened up his door. "Trust me." He took a minute or two to pile the boxes together and lifted them up, headed towards the residence hall his dorm room was in.

The two of them approached the elevator once they got into the building, waiting for the metal doors to slide open. When they did, annoying Muzak was playing when they stepped in. The only other people in the elevator was another nervous looking freshman and who Peter assumed to be her dad.

When Aunt May opened the door of room 103B and they entered, there was already someone in there. A guy no older than Peter with loose, ear-length auburn hair dressed in a nice polo shirt and jeans. Peter set his boxes down and walked over to him.

"You must be Harry," Peter said, offering his hand. "I'm – "

"Parker," he said smoothly, firmly shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Peter." He had a charismatic smile on his face, showing pearly white teeth.

"You too," Peter said, retracting his hand. He had a small smile to be polite, but he was never too much of a people-person.

"Well," Aunt May said as Peter turned back around to her. "I better get myself going, I have a lunch date with Anna Watson at Joe's. I better get going. I love you, Peter."

"I love you too Aunt May," he said as he went in for a hug, he wasn't super tall but he still seemed to tower over the old woman.

She just gave a small wave to Peter's roommate, then exiting the dorm room, shutting the heavy door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter's first week of college took some getting used to, juggling his life as a crime-fighter and his life as a full-time student. Over the past week, he'd gotten home at no earlier than midnight; crawling silently through the window, hoping to God he wouldn't wake Harry.

During that first week, Peter had also gone to the T-Mobile store to get himself a new phone. He ended up being able to afford a slightly better phone than his last, even though it did take about three-quarters of his last paycheck from the Daily Bugle. Jameson gave him a fair wage. Well, if it was the 1960s anyway.

That Friday night, Peter ended up stopping a car theft and when the car thief hopped out he managed to sock Peter in the eye; that was something Peter blamed on his classes and lack of sleep.

"Geez, Parker," Harry said that morning as he was tying his tie. "Who'd you make mad?"

"What?" Peter said as he slipped on his tennis shoes. "Oh! Do you mean the shiner? It's embarrassing really, there was just a lab accident in one of my classes."

"Ah," he said as he straightened his tie. "Well, my parents want me over for lunch today. I'll see you later Pete."

Peter watched his roommate exit their room and sighed as he stood up. He had a meeting with one of his professors , Otto Octavius. Octavius had taken a liking to Peter over the past week and invited him to his office for coffee.

As he walked across the campus, Peter admired the sights; there were large trees which had leaves turning multicolored due to the season and lawns of green grass. It was beautiful. When he arrived at his professor's office, he knocked on the door softly. A few minutes after he had, a shorter man with receding graying brown hair answered. The sound of classical music came from behind him inside his office.

"Parker!" Octavius exclaimed with a smile, "Good to see you! Come in, come in!"

Peter followed the man into his office and sat down at a table he had in there in an old wicker chair. The professor poured coffee into a mug that sat in front of Peter.

"Do you want any cream or sugar?" he asked as he poured himself some into a mug that said 'World's Best Professor!' with the ESU insignia on it.

"No thank you, Professor Octavius," he told him as he sipped the lukewarm black coffee.

"Oh please, call me Otto," the stubby man said as he sat in his own wicker chair a bit stiffly. "Now Parker, I wanted to talk to you about how impressed I am by your intelligence! As a freshman, you're brighter than more than half of my senior students!"

Peter chuckled a bit, sipping his coffee. He wasn't sure what to say, years of social deprivation caused him to take a large hit to his social skills.

"Thanks, Professor – erm, Otto," he eventually said.

"I mean it, Peter," he said. His voice was a bit nasally. "In fact, I'm so infatuated with your intelligence that I want to show you something I've been working on. A side project of sorts."

"That'd be awesome!" Peter exclaimed. He was interested in seeing what the professor was working on. So, the older man walked to his desk and pulled something quite small out of the drawer. He walked back over to the table and set it down.

"What is it?" Peter asked eyeing what seemed to be a type of computer chip.

"It's a chip," he said, his eyes seemed to be glowing. "What it does, though, is much more fascinating. You attach it surgically to the T1 vertebra."

"Why would you?" he asked, eyeing the chip still.

"To control prosthetic limbs! Or in the future, even extra mechanical limbs!" the professor exclaimed. "I still have much more work to do before I know it's safe to use."

"It sounds amazing, Otto," Peter said as his professor took the chip back off the table, putting it back in his desk drawer. "When did you start the project."

"About three years ago," he said, pouring himself more coffee. "It's been a passion project of mine. It's expensive to work on, maybe I'll finish it someday."

"Well just remember me when you're making millions off of it," Peter joked, grinning at his professor.

"Oh I will, Parker," he said with a chuckle. "I will."

After finishing his coffee, Peter had left Octavius' office. He didn't really have plans that day so he decided to ditch his outfit for a more red and blue one. He decided he'd get a few shots to sell to the Bugle for some extra cash.

He set the camera up, webbed to the side of a building and swung by it a few times; a sensor that was sewn into his costume set off a jury-rigged contraption on his camera, which allowed it to snap photos of him without being manually operated.

As he swung, an alarm on his phone went off. He pulled it from his waistband and looked a the screen. An app he had programmed to pick up police radio signals had notified him of a disturbance coming from the financial district on the corner of Cedar and Broadway.

"When duty calls!" Peter exclaimed, picking up in speed.

When he arrived on the scene he had to dodge a sedan being thrown at him. Locating the car's origin, he found a hulking beast in rhino-shaped armor.

"O'Hirn?!" Peter said as he swung towards the assailant. "Is it really already time for you to be out?" He released a barrage of webbing, which the Rhino easily broke through.

"I got off for good behavior!" O'Hirn grunted as he launched another vehicle at the web-slinger.

As he swung out of the way, Peter eyed the vicinity for any civilians. Not spotting any, he turned toward the police officers. "I've got him," he told them. "You guys get somewhere safe."

"It's our job to – "

CRASH!

The police officer was interrupted by a car landing only about fifteen yards from them.

"Just go!" Spider-Man exclaimed, the officers then running off.

He turned towards his opponent, swinging at him. His legs launched into the large, square face of the Rhino. Taking advantage of the brute's discombobulation, Peter then launched a wide spray of webbing; blocking O'Hirn's eyesight.

"Damn Spider!" He growled, swiping around aimlessly. His heavy arm ended up hammering into Peter's face, sending him flying to the side. He slammed into a brick building, causing it to crumble just a little. He stood up dizzy, tasting the blood fill up his mouth. He spat it into his mask, a tooth coming with.

"Alright, O'Hirn," he growled. "That's enough." He slung a web towards a carless door and swung it hard at the Rhino, the metal whacking him in the face.

"Gah!" The Rhino called out. "Come here you fucking bug!"

"Will do!" Peter called back, launching himself at the animal-like man. His fist launched into the face of O'Hirn. He then kicked him away, but he was still revved up. Peter then came up with a plan.

He swung in front of a building, then calling out, "Come and get me O'Hirn!"

The giant man growled and dashed at Peter, who moved out of the way at the last second. The Rhino had lodged himself into the building and he seemed too dazed to care. That was when about three tranquilizer darts were, presumably horse tranquilizer, were shot into him.

"Looks like my job here is done," Peter said to himself, zipping off towards the top of a nearby building.


	3. Chapter 3

"What happened to you, Parker?" Harry asked when he entered the room, spotting a beaten Peter lying on his bed. A bag of ice rested on his bruised forehead.

"Bike accident," he quickly lied, his eyes staying closed. "Crashed into the side of a building, wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"Well, damn," Harry said, undoing his tie and throwing it to the side. "That's a lot of damage for a stupid bike accident."

"It was a hard wall," Peter told him. "I was going pretty fast."

Harry just nodded and grabbed a bag of chips from under his bed, opening them loudly. "You're accident prone, Pete," he said before shoving a handful of them down his mouth. "It's kind of badass though."

"Thank you?" Peter said, not sure how to take Harry's comment.

…

A tall, pale man made his way up the stair of one of ESU's many science halls. He had well-kempt burgundy hair that slightly curled and his eyes were piercingly blue, he had a resting smirk on his face. As he reached the final floor, he made this way to the end of the hall. He approached the final door.

He knocked on the office door softly, waiting. Only seconds after he knocked, a short man with a receding hairline and graying hair answered the door.

"Mr. Osborn!" The man exclaimed, a bit of a startle to his voice. "I-I wasn't expecting you to arrive so soon! P-please, come in! Come in!"

When the two men, who'd you never believe were the same age, entered the dark and musty office. On the table inside were two coffee cups.

"So, Doctor Octavius," Norman Osborn said as he sat down. "About this neuro-chip, you were oh-so-excited to tell me about."

The man smiled sheepishly before withdrawing the small chip from his coat pocket. "How it works," he said. "It's externally attached to the T1 vertebra from right below your neck. I've nearly finished this prototype, I just need the time and the – "

"Say no more Otto," Osborn said, still smirking. "Sell me the rights and I will have you come in and finish it, all funds covered. I expect you'll finish quickly."

"Of course!" Octavius basically squeaked. "W-when do you want me to come in?!"

"I'll e-mail you," Osborn said, already standing. "Or at least one of my secretaries will. Have a good night, Otto."

He left the office without another word, shutting the door behind him.

…

Over the next few weeks, Peter had gotten more and more used to being a college student as well as Spider-Man. He had a sort of schedule, though it included little free time. When he did get some, however, it was used by getting in an extra hour or two of sleep.

This was all thrown off, however, when Harry asked Peter to go somewhere with his friends and him.

"A night club?" Peter asked, his eyes shifting from his laptop to Harry, who'd just entered their room. He was in the middle of e-mailing shots of him in-costume to the Daily Bugle. "You know Harry, that kind of atmosphere isn't quite my forte."

"Come on Pete!" Harry exclaimed, sitting on his roommate's bed. "You're an alright guy, but you're so stiff! Come on, loosen up a bit! I think you'll get along with my friends, they're all cool."

"I'll think about it," Peter said, turning his attention back to his laptop. "I might be erm – busy that night."

"I didn't say what night, Pete," Harry said, "but you said you'll think about it! Sweet! We're meeting up at the Silver Spoon first on Friday night" – Harry was already opening their room door, stepping out – "I'll see you there Pete!"

Harry never stayed in their room often, it was more of a midway point for him. He would come to sleep, change clothes, bother Peter, but he was never there for more than thirty minutes. Despite this, Peter got along with him more than he'd ever expected to. Peter wasn't sure, but maybe Harry was his friend?

"I guess a good friend would go," Peter mumbled to himself. "Man, no wonder why I never had any in school. It's too much 'going out of your comfort zone'."

So, on Friday night, Peter sucked it up. He wore a yellow sweater, khakis, and worn out sneakers over his red and blue costume. In his coat pocket, he kept his mask and gloves.

"You can never be too cautious," Peter said to himself, eyeing the red peeking from under his sweater before readjusting it. "Spider-Man's never really off-duty, is he?"

"What was that, Pete-e-o?" Harry said, bursting into their room.

"Oh, uh!" Peter explained, gulping. "I was just giving myself a pep talk. I've never really been a social butterfly."

Harry just chuckled. "Alright," he said. "Well come on Mr. Pep-Talk. My friends are-a-waiting."

Harry drove the two of them to the café in his Tesla, which felt like a car of the future to Peter. It was a quick drive from the campus, and when Peter got out he began to sweat. Sure, he'd taken on the likes of the Rhino and the Shocker, but he'd rather take a beating from the Rhino any day then be caught in a social situation.

When the two entered the Silver Spoon, Harry led Peter to a booth in the back. In the booth sat two people. A black girl with short hair and somebody Peter never planned on seeing again.

"You brought Puny Parker, Osborn?!" Flash Thompson exclaimed, basically spitting out his drink. "When you said you were bringing a friend this is the last person I expected!"

"Calm down Eugene!" the black girl said, her voice was silky smooth.

"It's Flash, Gloria," Flash told her, growling.

"So Pete, uh," Harry smiled awkwardly. "This is Gloria Grant, and uh. Yeah, Flash. Wait" – Harry gave his friends a quizzical look – "Where's Gwen?"

As soon as Harry asked this, a voice from behind them said, "Are you guys talking about me?"

Peter turned around to find the source of this voice, and once he did, he was stunned. Standing there was a girl with platinum blonde hair and piercing, icy blue eyes.

"And who's this?" Gwen asked as she walked up to the group, nodding at Peter.

"I-I-I'm – "

"This is my friend, Peter Parker," Harry said. "Peter, this is Gwen Stacy. She's a science major at Empire State, like you."

"A science major?" Gwen said, taking a seat next to Gloria. "Awesome" – she grinned at Peter – "Maybe I've met somebody who's smarter than me."

Peter coughed and scratched the back of his head; he could feel his face burning red and he knew he looked like a flustered fool. Finally, he mustered up enough courage to say something.

"It's uh, nice to meet you, Gwen," he said nervously.

"You too, Peter Parker," she said. "I think we'll get along just fine."

"Why don't we get going?" Flash said, getting up from his seat. "We don't have all night to sit here and listen to Parker stutter."

"Be nice Flash!" Gwen said, sternly looking at him. "Just because somebody here has a big brain and not a big ego doesn't mean you need to pick on them."

Peter grumbled to himself. He didn't need some girl he'd just met to stand up for him to the person who'd bullied him in high school.

The five of them left the Silver Spoon, riding in Harry's car to the club. Peter didn't think he'd be able to sweat even more, but when they got out to go enter the club he was drenched. They all showed their IDs to get in, and when they did there were multi-colored lights a-plenty as well as blaring rap music.

In no time, Peter was dragged by his group into the crowd of sweating 18-to-20-something year olds. Everyone was dancing and Peter was moving awkwardly to the beat. That was until his wrists were grabbed by Gwen.

"Come on Pete," she shouted. "Loosen up! Dance!" She moved his arms with hers, and he wasn't sure what to really do so he just moved with her; eventually, he was laughing and having fun. That was when the screams came.

Looking in the direction of the screams, Peter saw a blazing fire.

When duty calls, he thought before sighing.

When Gwen turned back to where he was, Peter was already gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter frantically dropped his clothes to the floor, pulling his bug-eyed mask over his face. He web-zipped up to the rafters that hadn't fallen yet to access the damage. His eyes scanned the area, hopping down from the rafter when he spotted a group of people surrounded by burning rubble.

"Spider-Man!" A woman exclaimed as he swung to them.

He quickly dug his hand under the rubble, grunting as he lifted it up enough so everyone could get through.

"Hurry!" he growled through gritted teeth. "Help anybody that you can, just make sure you get out!"

After the last person had slipped out, he dropped the rubble and zipped back up. It wasn't very long before he heard the cries of a familiar voice.

"Please!" Gwen Stacy yelled, "Help me! I'm stuck!"

Hey swung down to her voice's origin, finding the blonde girl caught under a fallen rafter. Without saying a word, Peter threw the rafter off of her with a large push. He offered her his gloved hand, helping her up off the ground.

"Are you able to walk?" Peter asked, lowering his voice slightly in hopes she wouldn't recognize it. The girl nodded in reply. "Alright, were you here with anybody."

"Uh, yeah," she said, her breath heavy. "I saw everyone get out, except… Peter!" She gasped.

"Don't worry!" He said, "I'll find him. Just get yourself out and help anyone that you can, alright?"

"Of course!" She nodded, before turning around and running towards the exit.

Peter swung back up, looking for anyone else in need. Not finding anyone else, he was sure everything was okay. He zipped out of a burst open window, the chilly air of September hitting his face through his mask.

I'm flattered she's worried about me, Peter thought as he swung through the city, looking at his singed costume. She's a very pretty girl… Nah! What kind of girl would be idiotic enough to get with stupid Peter Parker? I'm a nobody, she probably has a thing for Flash or Harry…

"Harry!" Peter exclaimed as he landed on a rooftop to rest. "He's going to see me at the room, what could I tell him? I ditched him and everyone else to save my own hide? God… I can't do that. I'll call Aunt May, stay the night there. It beats having to face Harry tonight"—Peter pulled his phone from his waistband, dialing Aunt May's number—"Hey May… Yeah, I'm okay. I was just – yeah, I've been eating three meals a day. I uh, can I swing by. Maybe stay the night? I miss home. Alright, I'll see you then; I love you too."

Too exhausted to even swing, Peter caught a subway. He easily felt the cold metal seat through the fabric of his costume, so he sat there arms crossed shivering. When he arrived in Queens, he swung to May's; crawling in through his bedroom window as he constantly did in high school.

"Hey, Aunt May!" Peter called in after re-entering her home, now wearing a gray sweatshirt and jeans. "I'm here!"

"I'm in the kitchen!" She called back. "I'm making brownies!"

"At ten o'clock P.M.?" He asked, walking into the kitchen. "I'd thought you'd be getting ready for bed by now."

"Oh I know I should be, but I took a cat nap and I… I forgot I had to make brownies for Anna Watson's little neighborhood get together she's having tomorrow."

Peter looked at papers on his aunt's kitchen table as she talked, noticing they were past due bills.

"Why didn't you tell me about these?" Peter asked May abruptly, holding the papers in his hands and looking at the woman. "You know I sell pictures of Spider-Man to Jameson at the bugle! I can help you with them!"

"I'm sorry Peter," she said. "but I can't go asking my nephew who's in college for bill money!"

"Aunt May," Peter said in a calmer voice. "I can help you. I-I want to help you." He went for his wallet, but then gulped. He'd accidentally left it in his pants at the night club…

"Next time I sell pictures to the bugle," he told her. "You're getting all of it, Aunt May. You've been a mother to me all my life. You deserve it."

The woman nodded, walking over to hug her nephew. "You're just like Ben," she sighed. "Stubborn. All of you Parker men are." Both of them laughed at her comment.

"I'm going to hit the hay," he said, yawning and scratching the back of his head. "I've had a long day. I'll see you in the morning. Good night."

"Goodnight Peter," she said as her nephew made his way up the stairs. "Sleep well."

The next morning, Peter didn't wake up until well past noon. When he walked downstairs and into the kitchen, he found a Ziploc bag with a ham and cheese sandwich. A sticky-note on the bag read;

Peter,

I'm over at Anna's, eat this. You didn't look very well last night. I love you. – Aunt May

Peter gladly opened up the bag, pulling out the sandwich and devouring it only a few bites. He then cleaned up around the house, doing what he knew Aunt May couldn't do. After moving a few things he'd known she wanted up in the attic, he packed threw some clothes into an old backpack. He then changed into his singed costume, looking at it in the mirror and sighing. He'd have to get around to repairing it.

"Hey Harry," Peter answered his phone as he swung through Manhattan.

"Pete!" Harry exclaimed. "We had no idea where you were last night, even Flash was worried!"

"Oh yeah, I was uh- saved by Spider-Man actually," Peter told him. "I'm sorry for not making contact, I was in shock. I just took ended going to my Aunt's house. I'm on my way to the room now though, I'll seeya."

I hate to lie, Peter thought after hanging up. Especially to my sole friend, I guess being Spider-Man comes with a toll. A heavy, heavy toll.

As he continued swinging, his phone began ringing again. He sighed and answered it.

"Hello?" He said.

"Parker!" Otto Octavius' voice sounded. "Would you like to come by my lab today? At Oscorp."

"Oscorp?" Peter asked, confused. "Since when did you—"

"Oh skip the details, Parker!" Otto exclaimed. His voice sounded confident. "I have something I know will intrigue such a bright young man as yourself!"

"Alright," Peter said. "I have to make a stop by my room and I'll be right over."

"Perfect!" the doctor exclaimed. "I'll tell the front office I'm expecting you! They'll give you the details."

Peter was more intrigued by the fact that Octavius now had a lab to work in at Oscorp, but Otto also sounded very excited to show Peter what he had in store.

When Peter got back to the residence hall he talked to Harry for a bit. After reassuring his friend he was alright, he changed into a bit more professional attire; a button-up shirt, a yellow sweater vest, and khaki pants. He, of course, wore his Spider-Man suit under it, but decided taking the underground was a better idea than swinging.

After about only five minutes of waiting, Peter was already up in the sky wearing red and blue.

"I guess I've grown impatient over the past three years," Peter told himself as he swung, doing a few aerial flips and tricks for fun. "Swinging is way more efficient than any other type of commute."

When Peter arrived at Oscorp, ducking into an alleyway and pulling his now slightly wrinkled street clothes back over his costume. He then entered the 105-story skyscraper. When he found himself in the lobby, he was in awe. There were elevators and escalators going every which way. There were also screens showing different announcements and such. It was magnificent.

"Can I help you, sir?" The blonde receptionist asked after Peter stared around for a moment. "Do you need something?"

"Oh!" Exclaimed Peter, who walked over to the reception desk. "I uh – I'm Peter Parker. Doctor Otto Octavius said he'd call down for—"

"Here's a guess pass," the receptionist said, handing Peter with a sticker with a bad black and white picture of him on it. Had she taken it when he was still talking? "It'll get you through security. He's on floor eleven in lab K122. He's waiting for you."

Peter nodded, putting the sticker on his sweater vest. "Thank you, ma'am." He walked off and through the security check, finding his way to the nearest glass elevator.

When Peter entered the elevator, he was shocked. Instead of finding any buttons a feminine yet robotic voice asked him, "What floor?"

"Eleven," he sputtered, startled by the voice. The elevator doors slid closed smoothly and it accelerated up the building. In under a minute, it had already arrived on the eleventh floor. When Peter stepped out he was in a quiet hallway. It all seemed quite lack-luster compared to the rest of Oscorp. He slowly made his way, looking at each door until he found the one that read 'Lab K122'.

Before Peter could even knock, the door swung open. "Parker!" Doctor Octavius exclaimed, "Come on in!" The short man's eyes seemed more tired than usual. His hair also seemed to have grayed even more than before.

He walked inside, looking around the lab. Calling it cramped would be an understatement. There were different machines everywhere as well as tools, and wires were running all along the floor. Peter followed his teacher throughout the lab.

Maybe this is why he's seemed so stressed and tired during his lessons, Peter thought.

"Now Parker," Otto said, walking towards a covered glass case. "I want to show you something very important to me." He uncovered the glass case, which held a small piece of technology. It looked like a miniature, metallic spine with three needles sticking out. It had to no more than four to five inches.

"Is that the neuro-chip?" Peter asked, surprised he'd finished it so fast. It looked perfected.

"Indeed Mr. Parker!" Otto said with a huge grin. "Mr. Norman Osborn, who I know you know of, offered me lab space to finish it. He just, uh, wants me to uh"—he coughed softly—"He wants me to quit my job at ESU and work here full time… and I agreed. It's better pay and I, uh, it's what's best. I'm truly sorry I won't be teaching you anymore."

"It's okay professor, you seem happy about this job!" Peter said. "But who's going to teach the class? Have they already found a new professor?"

"I'm sure they have," Otto told Peter, a tired smile on his face. "Anyways, I have work to do Parker. Thank you for coming by."

"No problem, Doctor," Peter said. "Thank you for inviting me, maybe we can talk later?" Peter bid the short man farewell, heading back to the elevator down the hall that had brought him upstairs.


End file.
